


Only Come Along To Do Me Wrong

by lovethatwewerein



Category: Glee
Genre: Blaine Anderson & Sebastian Smythe Friendship, M/M, Mentioned Quinn Fabray, Past Blaine Anderson/Sebastian Smythe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:55:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26320756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovethatwewerein/pseuds/lovethatwewerein
Summary: It’s etched on his skin. It’s still searing, phantom touches from hours before. He’d been drunk enough not to care who he was bringing home, who he trusted with his body. His friends had abandoned him an hour before, both of them desperate to indulge in someone else’s body. It was fine for them, they had people to go home to. He didn’t even have a cat.So he had allowed himself to dance. To drink and lose himself in a group of people he won’t ever have to see again, all of them with nothing in common except their location. When the man approached from behind, rested his hands on his waist, ready to be pushed away if his advances weren’t welcome. But they were, and Hunter had leaned into it. Into a warm torso and a thumping baseline. Into letting go.
Relationships: Hunter Clarington/Sebastian Smythe, Mike Chang/Tina Cohen-Chang, Sam Evans/Marley Rose
Kudos: 14





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from 'finally//beautiful stranger' by Halsey.

It’s etched on his skin. It’s still searing, phantom touches from hours before. He’d been drunk enough not to care who he was bringing home, who he trusted with his body. His friends had abandoned him an hour before, both of them desperate to indulge in someone else’s body. It was fine for them, they had people to go home to. He didn’t even have a cat. 

So he had allowed himself to dance. To drink and lose himself in a group of people he won’t ever have to see again, all of them with nothing in common except their location. When the man approached from behind, rested his hands on his waist, ready to be pushed away if his advances weren’t welcome. But they were, and Hunter had leaned into it. Into a warm torso and a thumping baseline. Into letting go. 

It was almost too easy to invite Sebastian back to his apartment. He was fun, unattached. They’d gotten a taxi, distracted each other for the twenty minute drive. And, when they had entered his apartment, everything was different. Standing on the threshold, everything was wrong. Wonky. 

Nothing was out of place - not a cup or cushion or t-shirt - but things had seemed slightly off. Being organised made sense to him, it was a part of him he couldn’t get rid of if he wanted to. Giving everything a place made sense. 

His father had enrolled him in boy scouts as soon as he had been old enough and he had built a place for himself in that small group. He’d been a leader, the person a dozen seven year old boys looked to for guidance. That was where he was supposed to be, where he fit, and he’d thrived there, had thrived on every camping trip and meeting. 

When he outgrew that, was forced to start growing up from campfire songs and s'mores, he’d been enrolled at military school in Colorado - one of the best - and done all he could to graduate top of his class. Joining the armed forces was the next step, the only logical step, to take, his inevitable path. It was where he was determined to go before his mother fell ill. 

Returning to Ohio didn’t have a place in his plan, his scheme for his life, but he did it because he loved her. His mother meant something, meant more to him than anything, and he wouldn’t miss her final months alive. So he had paused everything and gone home, had taken the little time he had left with her and used it for all it was worth. 

That was how he had met Quinn, both in attendance at the last associate dinner of his father’s before his mother passed. She had been talking to some boy with a hippo brooch pinned to the leather lapel of his blazer, nodding along with whatever he had been saying. Her dress had been striped grey and white, the material reaching her knees, platinum blonde hair parted to the side. 

He’d been caught up in a conversation with an old friend when she had disappeared from his line of sight, lost in the crowd of middle-aged women making an effort to match their children with one another. She’d reappeared beside him moments later, hand curling around his bicep as she stared down Rachel Berry, who had been attempting to flirt with him. 

They’d talked as the evening would down and, completely enamoured already, he’d spent as much time as he could with her. He had come to know Kurt Hummel, to resent Kurt Hummel for being the least interesting person he had ever met. His father had been proud, had praised him on an impressive pairing, on finding someone that would fit well into the fold of the family eventually. 

But he didn’t know about the cold that came with it, with Quinn. She was icy and rough and they had no issue tearing each other down for kicks, to feel something, especially after the funeral. She had wanted him to feel something, to cry or yell, to admit that he was in pain. And they had lost themselves in their differences, in trying to claw their way out of the pit they had fallen into. They had ruined themselves through each other and it tore them apart. 

After that, he had had to get out. Of Ohio. Of who he had been the year before. New York had called to him or, rather, Marley had called him from New York asking if he would visit soon and a week later he had signed a lease to an apartment. He’d moved in and, without a path to follow anymore, he had told her that he was there. He was in a foreign city, he didn’t know who he was, but it would be okay. It had to be. 

And, when Sebastian had let him take control, let him set the pace, things had seemed better than nearly okay. They seemed like they could get better. 

Until he woke up to an empty bed and the distant press of fingertips against his shoulder blades. 

*

His alarm blares for the first time that morning, an irritating crash of a cymbal followed by the loud ringing of a bell. It’s the same wake-up call he’s used since he was twelve, a shock to the system that wakes him immediately, but it grates on him this morning. It’s a warning bell instead, a reminder that he can’t give up today, he can’t turn it away. He grinds his teeth as he shuts it off, a habit formed by a teenager trying strongly not to speak his mind, and moves towards the bathroom. 

The apartment isn’t the biggest, comfortable enough for two people to live in without having to see each other often if they choose not to, large enough that Marley keeps mentioning a gathering of friends taking place in it. He hadn’t cared enough for how to decorate it, for a colour scheme or which flooring would be better suited. The task had been delegated to a professional who came highly recommended by his uncle and they had done a good job. 

He couldn’t remember what it looked like when he bought it, when he moved in, before it had been tailored to the little that was known about him. There were a lot of muted tones, greys and creams with splashes of colour to complement them. He didn’t know what colours they were until two weeks after the job was done, when he pulled himself together long enough to check the swatches of paint the decorator had left, just in case. 

As the heat of the water replaces the warmth of his duvet, he runs through a mental programme of his day. He had promised Marley that he wouldn’t skip her brunch again and, because she hadn’t believed him at all, she had demanded he show up early to help her set up. She told him to arrive at nine, told him in no uncertain terms that he would be doing nothing more than helping her get stuff off the higher shelves. That there would be eight of them, total. 

Most of them she had met in high school, all of them members of a nationally ranked show choir, but some of them were new to her as well. Tina’s boyfriend had only just become a part of their group, having dated her for a few weeks now. Sam and his best friend, Blaine, had been close as student council president and vice president and they had remained close when they moved to the city. Blaine’s roommate was also attending for the first time. 

It did make him wonder what life would be like, how different things might be if they hadn’t become so tied up in knots. There were some things he knew, like how the teal accents in the bathroom would be a mustard yellow. How his bed would have six pillows instead of his preferred two. How he wouldn’t be volunteering at the shelter. But it was things like brunch that he couldn’t make guesses at, whether she would refuse to go or if she would want to meet all his friends in an informal setting. 

Shutting the water off, he tells himself not to think of Quinn, of what they could’ve been. They were strong personalities, both stubborn in nature and unwilling to yield. He couldn’t guess what might’ve happened, where he might be. It wasn’t healthy. It didn’t matter that he had been so sure he was in love, because they wouldn’t have made it regardless. They’re entwined threads weren’t bound enough for that. 

When he arrives at Marley’s she puts him to work fetching trays on the top shelf straight away. They keep a steady stream of conversation going as he sets the table, straightening a placemat slanted ten degrees to the left. She explains some key facts about the guest he’s about to meet. 

“And Sebastian - that’s Blaine’s roommate, is studying to be a lawyer,” she says, cracking an egg into a bowl with four already in. “How cool is that?” 

“Sebastian?” It has to be a coincidence. Has to. Marley nods, opening the oven and releasing a small cloud of smoke before returning to the eggs. “Yep. Why? Do you know him?” 

He shakes his head, trying to dislodge thoughts of heated hands, of panted breaths. “Just a familiar name, I’m sure.” 

She shrugs, holding the bowl high above a pan so she can scramble them. There’s sporadic knocking on the door and she points him out of the kitchen, a gesture that he has to answer it. He does, letting Sam enter his girlfriend’s apartment. 

The blond throws himself down on the couch, one of his jean legs resting higher on his ankle than the other. He sits down beside him so he can’t see it. “I heard,” Sam starts, facing him on the seat. “That you got some the other night. You gotta tell me all about it, man.” 

“I’d rather do anything else.”

“You can’t just leave me hanging,” he protests, grinning when Marley laughs from the other room. “Give me something to work with, bro.” 

“I’m not going to-” Two knocks sound at the door in quick succession, nothing else, and he jumps up to let Tina in. “Thank god.” 

Tina greets him with a smile, letting him get away with a nod of acknowledgment that, yes, they know each other and are friendly, instead of the hug she would prefer. A man follows her in, shaking his hand when he offers it before vanishing into the kitchen where Sam had escaped to. 

“That’s Mike,” Tina explains, setting the container she had arrived down on the coffee table. He helps her out of her coat, hanging it on the rack next to the door. “We’ve been dating for over a month now.” 

“And you’re sure he’s not gay?” 

She glares at him, snatching the box back up from the table. “Absolutely sure, thank you very much.” 

“Just checking,” he laughs, raising his arms in surrender. Her frown starts to fade at the gesture. “Considering the last guy. And the one before that, actually.” 

“We agreed never to speak of Nick again.”

“Six months, Tina. That’s all I’m saying.” 

“Well, stop saying it.” 

He excuses himself to the bathroom when the next knock hits the door, a steady rhythm. Almost musical. He’s already disappeared by the time Tina stops dancing long enough to let them in. 

Stepping out into the hallway with clean hands - dry hands - he’s sure he’s entered some sort of parallel dimension. Or someone is playing tricks on his mind. Or he’s dreaming. Because Sebastian can’t be leaning against the wall opposite him, can’t be staring at him from where he’s standing with a raised brow. He stops. 

“Have you never bumped into a one night stand before?” 

The question is loud, too loud in the small apartment. There’s a half a dozen of his friends here, half a dozen people that he doesn’t want to know about him and Sebastian sleeping together at one point. He glances towards the end of the hallway, picking out Tina’s voice above the rest, telling a story he can’t hear. 

“Would you be quiet?” he hisses, darting his eyes back to the man in front of him. He’s prettier in the daylight, freckles smattered across his cheekbones, green eyes shining. 

“You weren’t saying that a few nights ago,” Sebastian responds. Then, he waves his hand towards the bathroom behind Hunter. “I actually do need to piss though so… do you mind?” 

He takes two steps to the left, just out of the way of the entrance, and Sebastian slips passed. He winks, giving him a quick look from head to toe, and, in an attempt to hide how fast he’s begun breathing, he escapes to the kitchen. Marley tasks him with carrying the food out, with sorting all the heavy stuff out before they eat and he welcomes it. 

What he doesn’t welcome is Sebastian staring when he has to take his blazer off because of the heat. 

*

He calls into work the next morning to tell them he can’t make it. His uncle takes it on the nose, informs him that he can take as long as he needs and his desk will still be there. It’s not the most impressive of jobs, just some administrative work that pays him more than it should, but it pays and it means he can leave his trust fund alone for now. 

It’s not until he’s at the shelter that he realises he’s walked there, walked the hour it takes just to volunteer. Brittany welcomes him with a smile, handing him a bag of dog food so he can deal with the cats. She’s been here much longer than he has, has taken her place as a team player over the three years she’d worked there, but she can be a bit ditzy and he makes sure to swap the food for cat food before he goes through to the back. 

There’s a familiar tabby in the first cage, two tabby kittens curled up to her side. He can make out the scratches around her eyes from a fight she had got into with a stray dog six months ago, can sense her about to hiss at him when he adds a scoop of food to her bowl. One of the kittens stares up at him, yellow eyes watching him with interest, and he pets it quickly while Lady Tubbington (as Brittany fondly named her) eats. 

He counts three new cats, eight new kittens, and one damaged paw within the first hour. Most of the strays haven’t been named, too many of them had such low chances of making it that no one had ever bothered, but he smiled when he reached his favourite, scratching behind his ear when he puts the bag of food down by his feet. 

Mr. Puss had been brought in three months ago, the day Hunter started at the shelter. His white fir had been matted with blood and dirt and his front left paw had been broken. They’d done what they could to fix him up, tried to set him paw to heal right and had cleaned him off. He’d hissed at anyone that walked by the crate they put him in all day, daring them to try and approach him. 

He liked to think they bonded that day, that they were both new to the environment and that made them one another’s favourite. It probably wasn’t true - Mr. Puss probably hated him just for existing - but he started to eat when Hunter had and, in the days that followed, had stopped trying to scratch any of the staff that tried to help him. Which, if he’s honest, was an improvement he hadn’t anticipated. 

“You doing okay?” 

The cat stares at him. He stares back. His father would hate to see him now, dressed in a baggy t-shirt and some jeans, talking to an animal that would probably sell him on the dark web if he ever figured out how. He laughs, the thought too stupid not to chuckle at. Mr. Puss blinks. 

“Yeah. Me too,” he sighs, dragging a crate over to sit on. He pushed his fingers through the wires of the cage, stroking the white fur softly. “Lady Tubbington had her babies. Tina has a boyfriend that isn’t gay. I had sex with one of Marley’s brunch friends.” 

He wonders why he’s doing it, listing off things that have happened recently to a cat in a shelter of all places. It’s not like he cares, that he can offer sage words of wisdom on how to cope with Sebastian. But he can say what he has to without being interrupted and maybe that’s the appeal. Maybe he should get a cat. Adopt Mr. Puss. 

He makes a mental note to check with his landlord about pets. 

That’s how he passes the morning, feeding the rest of the cats. A couple of times he gets scratched, some deep enough that they’ll take a bit of time to heal, maybe even scar. He’s got scars from animal scratches up both arms, twisting around his wrist and outlining his veins. A few more won’t matter. 

“Hunter,” Brittany whispers in his ear suddenly, sending him flying off the crate he’d been perched on. She laughs and, though he can’t sure, he’s convinced Mr. Puss is purring in laughter as well. “There’s some guy at the front asking to see you. He’s shorter than the average lawn gnome so be careful. He might try to steal your gold.” 

He snorts, running a hand down his torso to remove the dirt he’d fallen into. Most of it, at least. “I’ll be careful.” She nods at him, satisfied, heading into the storage room right at the back of the building. 

Blaine is waiting at the counter for him, a surprisingly informal bow tie around his neck. He’s wearing a knitted cardigan though, something to fight off the chill Hunter had barely noticed on his walk. He grabs his coat from behind the desk. “Nice tie.” 

“Oh,” Blaine looks down at his tie before looking back at him. It’s dark blue with tiny dancing lobsters patterned on it. It’s ridiculous. “Thank you. Sebastian told me it was ridiculous.” 

He resists the urge to agree, to tell Blaine that anything else would look cooler. “Why are you here, Blaine?” 

They turn left when they exit the shelter, passing a woman with a fake chihuahua in her purse. His nose scrunches. Blaine trips over a crack in the sidewalk, barely dodging collision with a man on his phone. “We didn’t talk much yesterday. I figured we could get lunch. Get to know each other a little better.” 

He supposes it’s a nice sentiment, one borne of sincerity and friendship. But there’s that nagging feeling in the back of his mind, the one that told him exactly what Rachel Berry was after, what Trent was after, that he can’t put to rest. “We could’ve just talked at the next brunch.” 

“That’s not the same,” Blaine shakes his head, stepping over a drain. “I want to get to know you without everyone around.” 

“I’m not interested in you like that, Blaine,” he says, stopping in the middle of the street when Blaine stumbles over a stick. “Just so we’re on the same page.” 

“That’s not what I was going for at all.” 

“Good,” he nods, opening the door to the bistro he usually has lunch at on volunteer days. “At least we know where we stand.” 

“You aren’t my type.” 

“I’m everyone’s type.” 

Blaine shakes his head again, a small chuckle escaping him as they sit down. “Not mine. Sebastian’s, yes. But you are the furthest thing from what I’m into.” 

“You’re straight?” 

“No,” he opens a menu. “What do you recommend I have for lunch?” 

He points out a couple sandwiches he thinks he’ll like, not even bothering to look at a menu for himself. When Blaine decides, he stands up to pay, nodding at the owner with familiarity. He doesn’t ask questions but he can see them brewing. He tells him Blaine is a new recruit. There’s nothing wrong with a white lie. 

“So why are you on this side of town?” He asks when they get their sandwiches. Blaine takes a bite before answering. “My uni is round the corner and Marley told me you volunteer at the shelter so I figured it couldn’t hurt. Saves me from talking about coursework more than I already have.” 

“Makes sense. What are you studying again?” 

“Teaching. I was meant to go to NYADA, join their theatre programme, get my name on Broadway,” his words are wistful but not envious. “But I taught piano to some high school kids a couple days a week and I really enjoyed it.” 

“So are you aiming to be a music teacher only?” 

“No,” he takes another bite of his sandwich, washing it down with a sip of water. “Just general. I’m hoping to teach third or fourth grade.” 

“That’s really cool of you,” he responds, thinking back on his years at school. On the drills and the rules and the prearranged path. “I don’t think I could work with kids.” 

“Marley told me you’re really great at the shelter, though. Why don’t you just start working there?”

“I’ve got a job that pays the bills and I’ve got an opportunity to lend a hand when I can,” he shrugs, finishing his meal. “That’s good enough for now.” 

“Well, if you ever want a change of pace…” 

“I’ll think about it.” 

They stray to less serious topics after that. To how likely it is that Mike is a closet case (a solid six out of ten based on Tina’s track record), whether cats or dogs are better, which state is the worst. It’s nice, not to worry about where he should be, who he should be with. Blaine’s fun and sweet and, if he were more confident and not wearing a bowtie with lobsters on, Hunter might want him as more than a friend. 

He walks home after Blaine rushes off to get back to school, listening to some band he couldn’t name if he tried. It distracted him for a while, getting lunch with a new friend, but it’s gone now and, in its place, is memories of Ohio, the state he now considers the worst of them all. 

Marley calls him that night, asking if Blaine found him for lunch and how it went. He doesn’t tell her everything, doesn’t mention the talk of a career change. She has enough on her plate as it is, Sam abandoning her every so often to run errands that make no sense. It’s grating on her, he can tell, being kept out of the loop by the man she loves. 

He knows what Sam is doing, what he’s doing a terrible job of hiding, and he wonders if he could just snatch the plans for her surprise party from him and improve their relationship and the party. He probably could, could just ask for it and get a disorganized list of what they need and a location that definitely isn’t good enough, but Sam wants this, wants to do something sweet for his girlfriend. 

But Sam isn’t good at keeping secrets, at pretending everything is okay when it isn’t. He hasn’t had to hide, hasn’t had to keep the truth from people that mean the world to him. His parents had taken an interest in his life, in his hobbies, in his talents. They’d helped him hone his skills, helped him be proud of himself and who he was growing to be. 

Marley had refused to let him hide from her, as had Blaine. They’d gotten him to open up, to admit that he was worried she wouldn’t like him back and then, when she became the star of their show choir, that he wasn’t going to be good enough for her. That she’d succeed and realise she could do better than the quarterback of one of the worst high school teams in Ohio. 

They’d all kept each other from closing off, from hiding the facts and the feelings. He hadn’t gotten that. He couldn’t wear his heart on his sleeve, couldn’t pretend that logic wasn’t the best idea to apply in any situation. Love didn’t win wars, he’d been taught, but strategy sure as Hell did. 

If it got any worse for Marley he vowed to take control of the situation. 

(Sam approaches him exactly six days later with a plea for his help. He graciously accepts the task and locks his door for the night.)


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Are you ever going to talk to me?”_
> 
> _It’s the second brunch he’s attended at Marley’s request. Tina’s hosting this time and the apartment she shares with a girl she met last year at university had more space for him to hide from Sebastian._

“Are you ever going to talk to me?” 

It’s the second brunch he’s attended at Marley’s request. Tina’s hosting this time and the apartment she shares with a girl she met last year at university had more space for him to hide from Sebastian. 

He’d tried the bathroom, finding it locked, when Sebastian had arrived. Tina’s bedroom had been the next best step, familiar and comforting. But she’d come to fetch him, to get him to say hello to Blaine, to Sebastian. He hadn’t been able to say no and, when he finally got a chance to hide, Sebastian had followed him. 

“I’m talking to you right now, aren’t I?” He identifies two points of exit - the doorway Sebastian is standing in, effectively blocking his escape, and the second story window he isn’t sure he wants to jump out of. He could, would probably land with very few injuries, but that would make his actions obvious and he’s done an alright job of hiding them so far. 

“You know what I meant.” 

He does. Of course he does. Much as he would like to pretend otherwise, he has put effort into avoiding Sebastian, into trying not to get caught in a situation identical to this one. It hasn’t been easy, fighting the urge not to do something stupid. There are dozens of examples he could give: jumping out of a second story window, for starters. 

But there are the less dangerous ones, or the more dangerous ones depending on how you look at it. He could go out and meet someone new, fall in love with them and have his heart torn to bits. He could run off to a different state again, sell his house and make the same mistakes a second time. He could sleep with Sebastian again. He could, god forbid, invite him for coffee. None of his options are great. 

“I just want to forget it happened.” 

Sebastian raises an eyebrow, just the one, and isn’t that something. Or can most people do that? It doesn’t matter. He steps further into the room. “That’s what you want?” 

He swallows hard. “That’s exactly what I want.” 

It isn’t true, not even remotely, but his words still come out strong, determined. It almost convinces him, the confidence clinging to his sentence, but it doesn’t quite convince Sebastian. Doesn’t get him to back away like he’d touched an open flame. 

The other man’s collar is folded over again, as it always is. He grips the sink so he doesn’t do something incredibly dumb, like fix it. His eyes close when he can’t stop his gaze straying back to the material, to the sliver of Sebastian’s neck visible beneath. He already knows the taste, the feel. He doesn’t need to know it again. 

He’s not sure when Sebastian got so close, how he walked across the tiles undetected, but he’s right there. The spicy undertones of his cologne are suffocating, the mint still lingering on his breath is drowning him, pulling him under the tidal waves of his own thoughts, his own lust. 

“You mean to tell me you don’t want this?” A warm palm lands on his waist. “Or this,” his own hand is moved from the sink to Sebastian’s shoulder. “Or this?” 

It’s one of the quickest kisses he’s ever experienced, just a graze of lips before it’s gone, snatched away. He almost chases it, almost gives up on resisting whatever this is just so he can find that kiss again, make it last a few seconds more. His thoughts stick between his brain and his mouth, the words he wants to say trapped within his own body. 

His eyes open slowly and it’s like the earth has shifted on its axis. Sebastian’s is there. He’s still got a hand resting on Hunter’s hip, the heat of it still scorching through his shirt. He’s close enough that he can make out the flecks of gold in his green eyes, the smaller freckles dotted across his cheekbones, the shallowness of his breath. 

They’re breathing the same air, sharing the same heat. He has to get out of here, has to remember why he left Ohio behind, why he put so much into making sure this didn’t happen. He has reasons, an entire list of them pinned to his fridge, and he just has to make it home, just has to reassure himself that this is a bad idea. 

“I have to go.” 

He’s out of Tina’s apartment, coat still hanging by the door, before anyone else notices he’s gone. 

*

He skips the next brunch. And the one after that. It’s easy to tell himself that he’s not doing it because of Sebastian, because of the relentless pursuit he seems adamant on. It’s easier to tell Marley that he isn’t feeling well the first week and that he’s working the second. Tina calls him a few times, checking in and offering to make him a cold buster kit that works miracles. He lies to her, makes up some stomach bug that he caught at the shelter, and she leaves him alone to recover. 

The only places he goes are where he’s required. Work three days a week and the shelter the rest. Lady Tubbington’s kittens get adopted by a girl with a lisp who lovingly names them Steve, Susie and Sven. Mr. Puss gets grumpier as the days go on. It takes him a week of distracting himself before he gives in, ringing his landlord at eight in the morning to see if the complex is pet friendly. It is and he brings Mr. Puss home that afternoon. 

That’s how he meets Kitty. He’s shopping for everything a cat needs, a list provided by Brittany that’s written in crayon and a made-up language and one from the internet. It’s not the most comprehensive list, just recommended food and basic supplies like a bed, but it does the trick. 

Kitty introduces herself, asks him out with a casual air that he doesn’t appreciate much. It’s all very blasé, lacking in anything personal except the knowledge that he clearly has a cat, but he accepts the invite nonetheless. Anything to push Sebastian out of his memory. 

“I don’t put out on the first date,” she tells him when he offers to pick her up. “So if that’s the angle you’re aiming for, you can say bye-bye to this sweet ass right now.” 

“I was just trying to be a gentleman,” he answers as they join a queue. “If you’d rather smell like the subway, I’m not going to stop you.” 

She gives him her number and address, saving both in his phone with a hurriedly taken photo. It’s slightly blurry around the edges, he notices, but it’s the best she can do on such short notice. He bids her goodbye when his shopping is all bagged up and promises to call about availability. 

*

Their first date is at an italian restaurant he stumbled upon during his first month in New York. It’s not the most romantic, the ambience less sultry than some places he’s been to, but it’s nice and they have a good time. 

“What do you do for work anyway?” Kitty asks when a waiter brings out their main course. They both ordered a pasta dish. He tallies a point in their favour. “None of your clothes look like they cost less than forty bucks.” 

He looks down at his outfit, a navy button down and black blazer. It’s not his most expensive clothing, not by far, but it was of great quality and had probably cost more than most would be willing to spend. His family comes from money, old money he’s still not sure has ever been explained to him, but he works too. That’s what counts. 

“I work at my uncle’s company three days a week,” he says, picking up his water. Normally he would prefer wine on dates but Kitty is a couple years younger than him and can’t drink with him, so he passed. “And I volunteer the rest of the time.” 

“Was that a choice?” 

“I’ve been training to join the military since I was young enough to understand what it was,” he startles when her leg bumps against his beneath the table. “I went to military school in Colorado and everything.” 

“A military man,” Kitty nods, leaning further back in her chair even as her leg climbs higher on his. He pushes it down when it reaches his knee. “How come you aren’t at some army base, then? New York doesn’t seem like it’s your speed.” 

He clams up, his mother coming to the forefront of his mind. And then she’s replaced by Quinn, soft features turning into screaming matches, into broken furniture and bruised hearts. “I just… I just needed a change of pace.” 

A waiter approaches to ask if the meal is to their satisfaction, if they need anything else. He nods, tells them that everything is wonderful and to give the chef his compliments. He wants to yell that he’s lying, that his shirt is too tight and he’s in the wrong state. That he took a wrong turn and ended up here instead of wherever he should be. He says nothing of the sort. 

He looks back at Kitty when the waiter retreats, raising his glass of water in her direction. He hopes she can’t see his hand shake. “Can’t say it’s disappointed me yet.” 

*

Sam shows up at his door the next day, tapping his foot anxiously. He had struggled to sleep, too preoccupied with whether he was right to try and be in a relationship with Kitty. Whether he was just using her to replace everything he had lost. He didn’t think he was, didn’t think she was enough like his mother to take her place in his heart, and she wasn’t as angry as Quinn when it came to who he was, who he could be. And she couldn’t have replaced Sebastian, couldn’t have mimicked their heat or brief history. 

So he’d fallen into a restless sleep, barely sure that there wasn’t something he was still missing. 

Now though, with Sam on his couch, he’s alert as ever. He’s composed and in control. He’s the same person he’s always been - a planner - and that’s the advantage he wields over himself. “Do you not trust me to do this or something?” 

“That’s not… Why would you think that?” 

“Because you keep checking in on me twice a week,” he says, picking his third cup of coffee up from the table. It’s still scalding. “I have planned a surprise party before, Evans.” 

“I know. I just…” Sam hesitates, twirling his fingers in the loose threads of his hoodie. “Can you keep a secret?” 

He stares at him for a moment before realising that, yes, that was a serious question. “I know the party is a secret, Sam. That’s why we call it a surprise party.” 

He jumps up, pacing the length of the floor without looking at Hunter. “This is something else. Something way bigger.” 

“You can trust me.” 

“There’s a reason I need this to go perfectly. Why I panicked and asked you to do it,” he sighs, turning seventy degrees to stare directly at him. “I’m gonna ask Marley to marry me.” 

He stops, grip on the mug in his hands loosening so much he almost drops it. It’s one thing for them to think about it, to talk about a future together. They do it often, dream of the house they’re going to have, of how many kids they want and whether they’ll get a golden retriever or a german shepard. But living it, taking that step towards it, is another matter entirely. It’s a commitment they might not understand. 

He doesn’t respond until Sam starts pacing again, muttering under his breath about things he shouldn’t speak about other people. “You’re what?” 

“I’m proposing,” he sits back down, digging his nails into his thigh through his jeans. “We’ve been together for three years, you know. Since my junior year. And I just don’t want to hold back any longer.” 

“This is a massive st-” 

“I know it’s a massive step, Hunter, but I’ve wanted nothing more than to marry Marley since I was seventeen,” he admits, the words fading to a whisper as he stares at the coffee table. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.” 

He closes his eyes, taking a deep breath in and out. They’re happy. More than that, they’re content. They’re in love, they’re each other’s soulmate (if that crap actually exists), and he can’t be the one to stand in the way of that. To stop them declaring that to the world. “What do you need me to do?” 

*

Blaine meets him for lunch the following Tuesday, getting whoever’s at the front desk (Jake, this time) to collect him from the back where he’s helping Lady Tubbington adjust to being alone again. For all her hissing, she had given birth to those kittens and now they weren’t there. They go to the same bistro as before, Blaine ordering something new and him ordering his regular. 

“I don’t know what’s going on with him,” Blaine says as they sit down. He’s ashamed to admit he hadn’t been listening, had been thinking about seeing if Kitty wanted to go on another date tomorrow night. He assumes he’s talking about Sam, who’s still acting jittery despite having his help. “He’s been acting this way since brunch at Tina’s.” 

“What?” 

“Sebastian,” Blaine explains, pointing a fry at him. “Ever since that day he’s just been going through the motions. School, sleep, sex with strangers.” 

“That doesn’t sound that bad.” He ignores the bubbling in his stomach, the twisting envy working its way up his spinal cord. Sebastian can see whoever he wants. He has Kitty. 

Blaine shakes his head. “It’s really bad. Honestly, I’m not even sure he’s sleeping most nights.”

“At least he’s having fun.” 

He shrugs at Blaine’s glare. “He’s gonna end up hurting himself in the long run,” he swallows a mouthful of his smoothie. “I wish I knew how to help.” 

“I don’t know him well enough to suggest anything. We’ve barely spent five minutes talking to each other,” Lies, a voice deep in his mind hisses. He hits it with an imaginary fly swatter. An electric one. “I really wish I could help, Blaine.” 

“He’ll sort himself out eventually,” he says, the words leaving a bitter taste on his tongue. He doesn’t eat anything after that. “So did Sam tell you what he’s planning?” 

*

Tina and Marley almost bash his door down on a Sunday morning at seven with their knocking. HIs neighbours are used to the noise, most of the people on the bottom floor having young children that get noisy at all the worst times. That doesn’t mean he welcomes it. 

He untangled his limbs from Kitty’s, covering her in the comforter when she searches for the heat his body had provided moments ago. As soon as he lets them in, each holding two bags of groceries, they take charge of his kitchen. He picks out a shirt from the dryer as he walks past, mildly regretting not having put one on before he opened the door. 

“What are you doing here?” 

“We’re having brunch here today,” Tina answers, putting four cartons of orange juice in his refrigerator. She throws some leftover chinese out to make room. He barely protests. Day old food doesn’t appeal to him in the slightest, but apparently leftovers can come in handy. “Figured you couldn’t skip it if we brought it to you.” 

He leans against the doorjamb, pointing to the correct cupboard when she stares at him in request. “What if I was working today?” 

She shrugs, pulling out various pans and struggling to balance on her toes. He’d normally help her but he doesn’t want to. That’s what she gets for invading his home this early. “That’s why we’re here so early. Shelter doesn’t open until nine.” 

“And my other job. The one that pays me? Did you just forget about that one?” 

“You don’t work on Sundays, Hunter,” Marley says, frowning at him over the rim of her cup of coffee. He idly wonders when she made that. She catches him staring and hands him a second mug. He drinks it. Just the way he likes it. “You can’t fool me.” 

“I’ve been preoccupied,” he takes a seat at his kitchen table, shoving a hand in the pocket of his sweats as the other taps against the wood. “You don’t need me there to have a good time.” 

And they don’t. Blaine is more talented than he is, can play half a dozen instruments and sings better than he could dream of. Sam has his impressions and stories of his childhood full of excitement and laughter. Mike can dance and was on the football team back in his hometown. Sebastian… Sebastian was just interesting in general. He’s the weak link. And the newbie. 

“But we want you there,” Marley taps him on the shoulder with a spatula as Tina asks, “What has got you so preoccupied anyway?” 

“That would be me,” Kitty interrupts, walking into the room without a care in the world. She can sense the awkwardness her introduction has caused, probably loves it just because it had an effect. She’s tied her hair up and is wearing one of his clean t-shirts. There isn’t a single crease, unlike the one he’s wearing. He finds himself unnecessarily jealous. She sits down on his lap, disregarding the other five chairs in the room. “I’m not interrupting, am I?” 

Marley’s smiling like a crazy person as she takes in the scene, placing the frying pan on the stove. Tina’s analysing them for a second, her gaze stony. He shrugs guiltily. 

“Now it makes sense,” she whispers, turning away to give him and Kitty a little bit of privacy. Her and Marley mutter quietly as they cook, the sizzling of the pan blocking out the few words he might’ve heard. Kitty leans into him, watching the girls work in harmony, used to cooking brunch together in different kitchens each week. 

It takes three minutes and forty three seconds for Marley to speak up. 

“Are you staying for brunch?” She asks Kitty, ignoring his silent plea to, please, just shut up. “And I don’t believe we got your name.” 

“Kitty Wilde,” Kitty responds, giving him a quick glare to let him know that they’re going to talk about this. About him keeping her a secret. It’s the first time he feels guilty about their relationship. “And I would love to stay for brunch.”

He follows her when she leaves the kitchen to jump in the shower, an apology on the tip of his tongue. “I don’t want to hear it, Hunter,” is all she says before locking the bathroom door and keeping him in the proverbial cold. 

“I’m sorry.” It’s the first thing out of his mouth when she walks into the bedroom again, towel wrapped around her body so she can dig through her overnight bag. She smells distinctly of lavender instead of strawberries. He welcomes the scent and the change it suggests. 

“I’m not upset,” She drops her towel, pulling on her clothing. “I get that you didn’t want me to meet your friends yet. It isn’t like you’ve met mine.” 

“I’m sorry that I didn’t tell them we were dating,” he tries, because that is what he’s apologising for. It was wrong for them to find out about each other this way, a sudden meeting he hadn’t had a chance to plan. They deserved to at least have known each other’s names beforehand. “I’ve been meaning to. I just haven’t found the time.” 

“Don’t sweat it. Seriously, Hunter,” She frowns at him after pulling her t-shirt on, picking her hairbrush up from where she’d left it beforehand on his dresser. “It’s fine.” 

“And you’re sure you want to stay for brunch?” 

“Entirely sure,” she confirms, planting a quick kiss on his cheek. “Now go shower. You stink.” 

He washes quickly, changing into a pair of jeans and a polo shirt. The buttons are done the whole way up, the collar straight against the rest of the material. It’s barely in the realm of possibility that his collar does the same as Sebastian’s and for that he’s grateful. It’s bad enough when it’s someone else’s shirt that’s the problem. He can’t have it be his. 

Tina’s giving Kitty a rundown of everyone that’s going to be there. Mike has an important school project that he can’t waste time on. Sam broke his arm in a roller-skating accident that morning. She’s detailed who’s who, where they go and who they live with. She’s explained their connections, all of them (minus his and Sebastian’s, obviously) and Kitty has paid apt attention. 

It’s strange, seeing both women together. He’s always struggled to reconcile those parts of his life, his friendships with his relationships. Quinn hadn’t wanted to meet those people, those parts of him that weren’t hers as well. So he had stopped mentioning Marley, had stopped mentioning Tina and Sam and anyone he knew from military school. And then it hadn’t mattered anyway. 

“Blaine and Sebastian should be here in a minute,” Marley says, sliding a cup of coffee towards him. It’s his second and it’s freshly made so it burns on the way down. He welcomes the pain. Welcomes the bitter taste of it on his tongue. “Blaine’s just trying to find a parking spot. You know what it’s like around here.” 

He wishes that Sebastian will stay in the car with Blaine as he searches for a place to park, that he’ll give him a few extra minutes to collect himself. To wear the disguise he’s going to need to make it through breakfast with his girlfriend, a man he’s slept with and three of his closest friends.

He looks down at his coffee, at the half a cup he has left, and wonders if he could refill it with whisky. Something much stronger than just a Columbian brew. He doesn’t move closer to the cabinet he keeps his liquor in, most of it untouched for lack of needing a drink. 

There’s about thirty seconds of silence where they all stare at the door. It might just be him staring, attempting to see through the wood so he doesn’t have to face Sebastian eye to eye. Unfortunately, no one’s granted him that ability. No one even thought to offer it to him if it exists. 

Tina opens the door when there’s a knock. It’s not Blaine’s usual random choice of song, normally the one he has stuck in his head at the given moment, so it has to be Sebastian. And it is, unwinding a navy blue scarf from around his neck, unbuttoning the winter coat he’s wearing. He shouldn’t be as shocked as he is to see him standing there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm at love-that-we-were-in on tumblr.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _His shoulders tense when Tina introduces Sebastian to Kitty. Everything in his home feels out of place again, too far to the left and two inches forward from where they should be. The walls are the wrong colour, a shade darker than they had been twenty minutes ago. The wooden flooring was ash, not red oak. The curtains were royal blue instead of the navy the decorator had chosen months back. He was a stranger in his own home, amongst his furniture, amongst his friends._

His shoulders tense when Tina introduces Sebastian to Kitty. Everything in his home feels out of place again, too far to the left and two inches forward from where they should be. The walls are the wrong colour, a shade darker than they had been twenty minutes ago. The wooden flooring was ash, not red oak. The curtains were royal blue instead of the navy the decorator had chosen months back. He was a stranger in his own home, amongst his furniture, amongst his friends.

Kitty stares at him when it takes him a second to adjust, to note the changes everyone else is ignoring, and shake Sebastian’s hand, dropping it like it’s scalded him as soon as possible. They both stare. He’s not sure why everything feels wrong, why the edges of his vision have blurred, why he can’t tell who’s beside him and who’s in the kitchen. Who’s in his apartment.

Blaine hurries through the door, breaking the haze he’s fallen into in half. All his belongings are still in the wrong place, at an angle 50 degrees away from where they should be. But his walls are the right colour and the floor is the correct wood and the curtains are still blue. It’s Kitty’s hand on his back, rubbing soothing circles to loosen his muscles. It’s Sebastian staring at him from in front of the door, an eyebrow raised in silent concern.

He knows where everything is. Who everyone is. He’s okay.

Tina forces him into the seat at the head of the table and Marley into the one at the foot. She sits next to Blaine, leaving Kitty next to Sebastian. Next to him and Sebastian. They’re words are piling over one another’s, molding together into a foreign language that belongs to no country. Maybe Brittany taught them all her secret language. That has to be it.

He stares down at his plate, wondering if Marley’s eggs have always been so bland, if they’ve always lacked the taste he thought had made them so special. Blaine’s talking, but he only catches the end of his sentence. “Jeff brought his new girlfriend home to meet his parents. They love her. Apparently, she’s perfect.”

“Do you have a photo?” Tina asks, her cutlery clattering against the plate. It keeps ringing in his ears when Blaine fishes his phone out of his pocket. Sebastian has the audacity to ask why she wants to see it, if she was looking for the perfect girl to introduce to mommy and daddy. He shrugs, helpless, when she looks to him for help.

It takes Blaine twenty seven seconds to find a decent picture. It takes Tina four seconds to snatch the mobile out of his hands. It takes eleven for her to pass the phone to him. It takes him point nine seconds to register Quinn staring at him from the screen. It takes him a further five seconds to run away from the table.

Someone follows him - he knows it. Their chair scraped just as loudly against the floor as his did, no doubt leaving marks on the wood. But that isn’t important. He makes it to his bedroom and, using the few seconds he has before he’s caught up to, he races to the bathroom. The lock clicks into place as he turns it.

A timid knock. It’s not Kitty, then, and it’s not Tina either. It’s probably Marley, the shy disturbance screamed of her care, of her consideration for how a sudden, jarring noise, might affect him. But it could be Blaine, a fresh face in his life that cares too much for people that don’t deserve it. It’s not Sebastian. If it was, the knock would be harsher, rougher, surer.

“Hunter?” It’s Marley’s voice, even if it’s distorted against his ears. “Hunter, are you okay?”

He ignores her, ignores the concern she has for him. He won’t ruin them having a good time because his ex-girlfriend was in New York, because Blaine met her. Because they think she’s perfect. He can’t destroy that, destroy Blaine’s friend’s relationship because his didn’t work out. Because Quinn was selfish. Because he was stubborn.

He hears her walk away, hears a footsteps rustle against the carpet. He can’t make out words but he can make out sounds of them talking, of murmurs between the five of them. Then there’s more footsteps, coming his way, he assumes, and they’re stronger, more determined. The knock is loud and defiant this time.

“Hunter,” Kitty’s voice bites through his haze. “Don’t be a dick. Let me in.”

His head thuds against the wood behind him. She clicks her tongue. “You’re being an asshole, army boy.” He pulls his knees closer to his chest, tucks his face between his thighs. Blocks out her voice as she continues to insult him.

Eventually she leaves too, footsteps that shouldn’t echo as loudly as they do because of the carpeting. There’s nothing for a few minutes, not from outside the door or from further away. Only his breathing and his heart thundering in his chest.

He settles into it, into steadying his breathing as it comes out in short pants. He’s almost there, almost calm, when the door flies out from behind him. He falls to the ground, half in the bathroom, half in his bedroom. Sebastian’s standing over him, two paper clips in hand. He closes his eyes, wills brunch to be over.

“Not that I don’t love the sight of you beneath me,” Sebastian starts, stepping to the side and offering his arm to help him up. “But if you stay there, you’re gonna give me ideas and I doubt you want that.”

He sits up, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. His skin is hot and his hair is awry. He pushes the other man’s arm away as soon as he’s standing upright. The door to the bedroom is closed and there isn’t any scuffling against it. No one’s trying to listen in on them. He’s grateful for that, if nothing else.

They sit on the bed, side by side. It’s the same sheets as the last time Sebastian was in them, the same red and black stripes. He remembers the details of his room that night off by heart, knows what sheets had been on his bed, what shirt had been hanging on the back of his closet, knew where he’d left his shirt when Sebastian had stripped him of it. He ignores them. “Why did you pick the lock?”

“You weren’t letting anyone in.”

“I was fine.”

Sebastian snorts, gesturing to where he had been laying on the floor moments ago, where he’d been talking himself out of panicking over a photo on someone else’s phone. “You sure looked it,” he twirls one of the paperclips between his fingers. “Kitty was worried so I offered to give it a try. They don’t know my plan was breaking and entering.”

“How did you know what to do?”

“I used to break into my dad’s study a lot as a teenager,” he admits, placing the metal on the bedside table. It glows red in the light of his alarm clock. “Why did you race off when Tina handed you Blaine’s phone? Was she an old friend?”

“Ex- girlfriend, actually.”

“I’m guessing it ended badly.”

“We…” he pauses, the words halting on the tip of his tongue. He’s never said them out loud, never admitted just how broken they were. Was Sebastian really the first person he wanted to hear it? “We weren’t good for each other. It was easier to tear one another apart than to put the work in.”

“Sounds rough.”

He snorts, couldn’t stop it if he tried. “I didn’t mind it being rough most of the time.”

Sebastian got it, he knows. Caught the implication of his words. The joke he’d slipped in that didn’t really fit. But the opportunity presented itself and he had to. He laughs, loud and loose, in the space of the bedroom. They have a history here, but they don’t have the rest of their friends with them. They aren’t burdened by not sharing that part of their lives when they’re in here. So it’s okay to make a dirty joke. It’s okay to laugh.

He’s different in the light of day. Sebastian is too. They’re both freer. He isn’t weighed down by losing his way, by walking a winding path that never seems to end for the couple of years. Sebastian isn’t held back by school or the future either. They’re just having a good time. Being buddies who happened to have sex once. And, for the first time since Sebastian entered his home, things seem like they’re in the right place. Like they belong.

Sebastian nudges his shoulder. “Didn’t know you had it in you, Clarington.”

And, because things aren’t centimetres out from where they should be, he responds, “I’ve had a lot in me that you don’t know about.”

He isn’t given a chance to hear Sebastian’s reaction, to find out if he would laugh or gasp at the innuendo. Whether he’d have responded in kind. Tina summons them from inside the bathroom, pointing at the second door - the one for other people to enter through so they aren’t traipsing in and out of his bedroom.

“I forgot there was another door,” he whispers to Sebastian as Tina shakes her head, retreating the way she came. The other man laughs. “I didn’t even realise it was there.”

They both laugh. It isn’t to convince himself that the warmth in his chest is from embarrassment.

*

Kitty breaks up with him four days later.

He isn’t surprised. He had been listless and edgy and couldn’t give any of who he was to her. She deserved better than that, than being, not a second thought, but a third. To come after his past. After a history he couldn’t forget if he wanted to. Which he didn’t. She would never come first, would probably always just be a stand-in for whatever he wasn’t able to reach.

“I don’t know what’s going on with you,” she said, gathering her textbooks off his kitchen table as he drank his fourth beer in thirty minutes. “But I won’t put up with it.”

He’d looked up at her, let his fingers play with the damp label of the bottle. She’d sighed, throwing her bag over her shoulder.

“I’m never going to be enough for you, Hunter,” she’d said. He hadn’t denied it. Hadn’t known that he could. “I’ll come to Marley’s party this weekend because I do really like her, but I can’t do this.”

He had nodded, had patted the hand she placed on his shoulder as she walked past. A part of him, the part of him that couldn’t stand loneliness, that couldn’t deal with being abandoned again, wanted to stop her. To keep her close until her resolve crumbled. Until she cared less about what he wanted and more about what he needed. But he didn’t have any clue which was which.

So she had left. He had let her, had drank more than he could count through his headache the next morning, had skipped his shift at the office. He didn’t cry, didn’t mourn his second broken partnership in a year, but he did curl in on himself. Had hidden beneath the blankets with some crappy show that made no sense on the television until he passed out on his sofa.

His routine kickstarts after that. An alarm blaring at six, one he didn’t snooze or skip or just ignore entirely when Kitty was there, woke him. He feeds Mr Puss. He arrives at the shelter at opening time, Jake arriving a minute later. He went to lunch with Blaine. He forgot that he wasn’t good enough for the most understanding of people, for someone who cared about his well-being.

That he wasn’t where he should be and that was obvious in how he couldn’t make life work.

*

Sam comes around on Friday night to finalise the details for Marley’s party the next evening. The ring he reveals is beautiful, understated in a way he knows she’ll appreciate. It isn’t too expensive either, won’t make her feel guilty for having someone love her enough to buy her a ring. Sam asks if he can keep the box until the right time, if he can make sure he doesn’t back out. He says that he can.

They think about inviting Blaine to hang out as well, to get away from whatever Sebastian has planned and just relax before the excitement of a birthday sets in. In the end they don’t, Sam already losing his mind with worry about every conceivable thing that could go wrong.

_What if the venue double-booked?_

_What if the balloons don’t show up?_

_What if the ring breaks when he takes it out of his pocket?_

He insists that that won’t happen. That he’s better than that. And it’s true. He may not hold his personal life together well at all, may not be able to keep the person he likes happy for long enough, but he’s an organiser. He’s a planner. He doesn’t make silly mistakes.

Sam calms down when he turns on some superhero film he can’t follow the plot of. The blond is asleep long before it’s over, arms wrapped around a pillow in the corner of the sofa. His neck is likely to hurt when he wakes up but he thinks he’ll move before morning, that he’ll adjust his position at some point during the night.

He leaves not long after Sam goes to meet Marley in the morning, calling the venue of the party to confirm when he can begin setting up. It’s a Saturday, he doesn’t have to work and the shelter messaged to tell him that he wasn’t needed. It strips him bare, takes all of his distractions and burns them in a massive pile until three in the afternoon.

Kitty calls him to collect her from a friend’s house nearby and, though he’s surprised to hear from her so soon, he does as requested. She’s handing him a take away coffee cup as soon as she’s in his car.

“Why did you ask me to pick you up?” The coffee is a bit too bitter, a bit too cold as well. “The party isn’t for another few hours.”

“I did actually have to talk to you about something but it’s a nice day out. Park up and we’ll walk.”

He does so, finding an empty parking spot at the side of the road after almost five minutes of searching. There isn’t a park nearby, isn’t really anything nearby and, stupid as it is, he wonders if this is where she kills him for being a terrible boyfriend. She leads him down a side street with a smile, headed to a location that can’t have been pre-planned.

“You said you wanted to talk,” he reminds her when she attempts to balance on the curb. He grabs her hand out of habit when she almost falls into the road. “What about?”

“Oh, right,” she pauses, jumping to the side of a drain. “What’s going on with you and Sebastian?”

He trips this time, dropping her hand and almost spilling his cold coffee. It takes him a few seconds to adjust himself, to straighten his back and his coat. “What are you talking about?”

“I mean something happened between you two,” she stares at him out of the corner of her eye. He bites his lip. “And I think I deserve an explanation for that at least.”

And she does. He never explained what happened after brunch, what happened with Quinn. Why he can’t bring himself to ask her to give him a second chance. He owes her something, anything, and this is what she’s asking for. Nothing else.

He shrugs, trying to play off his words with feigned casualty. “We slept together a few months ago. Before I knew who he was.”

She grins a mean grin that he hates. It’s the first time he’s really hated any part of her. “It all makes sense now.”

“What?”

“You act super weird whenever he’s in the room,” she points at him when he goes to deny it. To protest. “You do. You freeze up and you look like you’ve never seen your surroundings before.”

“That’s not true.”

“It is,” she takes his cup from his hands to throw it away when they pass a bin. “You start acting like an alien who’s trying to live amongst humans and just isn’t doing a very good job of it.”

He bites his tongue, clamps down words he can’t think of but knows are there. They’d be mean, he knows himself well enough to know that, but he doesn’t want her to take the brunt of his anger. Of his confusion.

“You don’t have to be so mean about it.”

“I’m being nice,” she argues, leading him to the left. A small park comes into view. “And if you don’t want everyone else to pick up on it being your first day on earth, you need to hide it better.”

“It’s not my first-” he throws his hands up, pushing the gate of the park open with his hip. Kitty makes her way over to the swingset. “What do you suggest I do then?”

“The way I see it, you’ve got two options,” she swings high into the sky, feet kicking out. His stay planted firmly on the ground. “You either stop going to brunch and deal with Marley and Tina complaining about you being the worst so you don’t have to see him.”

“And my second option?”

Her hair flies out behind her. “You sleep with him again,” he grabs the chain of her swing and she drags her feet across the floor, coming to a halt. “Get it out of your system.”

“That’s a terrible idea.”

“How?”

“I can’t just have sex with him again.”

“Why not?” She walks over to the slide. Seven steps forward and two to the right. “You’re into him. He’s into sex. It’s the perfect combination.”

“I’m not going to just…” he stands to the side of the slide. She glides past him. “I’m not going to do that.”

“That’s your choice,” she says, circling back around to the steps leading to the top and climbing them again. “Your weird alien choice but still.”

He glares at her back. “Would you stop calling me an alien?”

“Then stop acting like one.”

He drives her home so she can wash the clothes in her bag and get her outfit for the party. He waits in the living room since she offered to help him set up. She can stand on chairs to hang banners, she tells him. He rolls his eyes but lets her tag along regardless.

The venue is large, nicer than the barn Sam had planned, and the decorations are all tasteful. Deep purple balloons with silver banners that say Happy Birthday in colourful letters. He invites her back to his apartment to get ready - it’s closer and he has to pick up the ring for Sam. It gives her the opportunity to get dressed in a more comfortable setting than a public bathroom.

It’s domestic. Not in the way his parents had been. It was the level of familiarity that came with being great friends. He had it with Marley and Tina and Blaine was getting there. Kitty would mean a lot to him, would hold a place in his heart for a long time, even if she didn’t know it. She was supposed to be a part of his life, a part of who he became in New York City. They had just happened to get it wrong on their way.

Everyone shows up in clumps - Tina, Mike and their friend, Artie; Unique and Brittany; Blaine and Sebastian. Most of them offer compliments, hand him their gifts so he can keep everything together, keep things from getting lost. Blaine asks him if he remembered ‘the thing’ and he doesn’t think anything the man had said to him in the past offended him as much.

Sebastian gives him nothing more than a nod when he walks through the door. But he does catch him watching him from the other side of the room, talking with one of Marley’s old school friends. He can’t stop thinking about Kitty’s words, about her advice regarding Sebastian.

Sam brings Marley in right on time, gently removing a blindfold from her eyes, Kitty switching on the lights as soon as she can see. They all shout, celebrate the way normal people do. People that don’t have to pretend to know what they want. People who just want their friend to enjoy themselves because she’s the kindest person they know.

“You did a really good job with this,” Kitty mutters to him when Marley is making the rounds. “But what are you going to do about that?”

She points at where Sebastian is talking to an old friend of Sam’s, Finn or something. His body is tilted at an angle Hunter knows, has experienced. It’s disheartening, to know that Sebastian isn’t nearly as obsessive over what they shared, that one night that became the catalyst for all of his internal turmoil.

“Nothing,” he shrugs, giving her a wink when he hands her his beer. She thanks him and cups it between her hands. “He’s clearly not interested in me and I’m not going to push it.”

“He wants sex,” she sighs, staring at a boy with old-school Justin Beiber hair with interest. “You can give him that. It doesn’t have to mean anything.”

He looks to Sam. There’s nothing short of adoration as he watches his girlfriend smile. But there’s nerves coming off him in waves. He’s rocking back and forth, tucking his hands into his pockets and then deciding against it. He may be an alien in Kitty’s eyes but at least he wasn’t a nervous wreck.

“I’m not having sex with Sebastian again, Kitty. So drop it.”

He hears a glass smash before he hears the gasp. Kitty spins on the spot, hair smacking him in the face harshly. But it doesn’t matter. Not with Blaine and Tina staring at him like he’s a stranger. Like he’s an alien that’s just confessed his plan for world domination. Most other guests have turned to stare at him, at the shards scattered around his feet.

He grabs them both by the wrist, glaring at the few people blocking their way out of the room. Sam watches him go and he’s glad that he has the engagement ring, that his best friend won’t be proposed to while he’s dealing with something much less important. Kitty’s at his heels as he pulls them into the ladies room. It’s not ideal but it’s better than having this conversation next to a urinal.

It’s his first time in either of the bathrooms. The colours are pretty normal, white and a pale pink that may be considered sexist if it had been used as a way to prove what sex it was meant for. He doesn’t care for decor, never has, especially in public restrooms, but it’s better than meeting Tina’s eyes.

She’s wearing blue contacts today. They match her dress. He’s never hesitated to tell her that he prefers the natural brown of her irises. Except this isn’t the time and Kitty is staring at him, passing on the message that he’s doing the ‘new on earth’ thing again.

He faces his friends, both shorter than himself but so much scarier. The lights drown Blaine out, he notes. It isn’t the yellow of his bowtie or the grey of his cardigan. It’s the lights - they make Tina’s cheeks shine where she’s getting angrier. He looks to his ex-girlfriend for help. She shakes her head.

He breathes deeply.

“How much did you hear?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm at love-that-we-were-in on tumblr.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"Only the part about not having sex with Sebastian again,” Blaine says, a hip resting on one of the sinks. There are three, two normal and one for children. “What’s going on, Hunter?”_
> 
> _“You remember the first day I came to brunch,” he guesses. They take a moment to trace time back, to recall a morning months ago. “Sebastian and I slept together a few nights before that. It was a one-time thing.”_
> 
> _“And you never considered that you might run into him at some point?” Tina asks, fire in her eyes. He averts his gaze. “Tina, it’s New York City. It’s not the smallest place in the world. I didn’t think I’d end up having breakfast with him two days later, no.”_

"Only the part about not having sex with Sebastian again,” Blaine says, a hip resting on one of the sinks. There are three, two normal and one for children. “What’s going on, Hunter?”

“You remember the first day I came to brunch,” he guesses. They take a moment to trace time back, to recall a morning months ago. “Sebastian and I slept together a few nights before that. It was a one-time thing.”

“And you never considered that you might run into him at some point?” Tina asks, fire in her eyes. He averts his gaze. “Tina, it’s New York City. It’s not the smallest place in the world. I didn’t think I’d end up having breakfast with him two days later, no.” 

She huffs, staring at him through the mirror. Blaine looks at the floor. Kitty shifts closer to the door. He glares at her. 

“We need to be fair here, T,” Blaine mumbles, picking at the sleeves of his vest. “It’s not like neither of us have never run into a hook-up before?” 

“But we didn’t keep it from our friends, Blaine!” 

“Frankly,” Kitty begins, another step closer to the door. When did she move? “It wasn’t really any of your business. And Sebastian could’ve told you.”

“He has so many hook-ups we told him to stop telling us about them,” she argues, crossing her arms over her chest. “This is different.” 

“How?”

It’s Blaine that asks, staring at Tina with a look that won’t surrender. He’s taking one for all of them, for question that won’t stop until they’re answered. He’s taking one for Hunter. 

“Because…” she begins, fingernails digging into her upper arm. “Just because.” 

“That’s not a reason,” Kitty says sardonically. “If you don’t have one, stop being a diva about it. So, they slept together. Big deal.” 

“And you’re okay with that?” Tina demands, narrowing her eyes. “Did he tell you before or after you broke up? Is that why you broke up?” 

“That’s not why we broke up.” 

“I knew something happened,” she shrugs, giving him a wink that he hates. No one else hears Blaine chuckle. “All I did was ask for an answer. Anyone could’ve.” 

It’s only sort of true. Other people could’ve asked, could’ve requested his transparency. He may not have given it to them, though, and that’s where Kitty is wrong. He decided not to announce it to the room. 

“If it happened so long ago,” Blaine says from where he hasn’t moved an inch, tapping a beat on the edge of the sink. “Why were you talking about it tonight?” 

Kitty looks to him for an answer and he wants to push her out of the way, find Sam and distract everyone with something way more important. Instead he rests the left side of his body against the wall. 

“Kitty seems to be under the impression that it’s a good idea to sleep with him again.” 

“Do you want to?” 

His eyes dart to Blaine’s, smooth honey shining with earnest and curiosity. “I wouldn’t say no.” 

“He is good in bed,” Blaine nods, laughing when his eyes widen. “We had a thing in high school. It never went further than sex. I wanted more than he could give at the time.” 

“And yet, you live together.” 

The other man shrugs. “I knew it was never gonna last between Sebastian and I. Our friendship was our better relationship. It happens.” 

“Touching as this very masculine bonding is,” Kitty interrupts. Tina is shifting her gaze between the both of them with bewilderment. “There is a party we’re supposed to be attending. People are gonna start thinking we all came in here for a public orgy.” 

“That’s disgusting.” He responds because what else is there to say. 

“It’s true,” she opens the door, gesturing for them all to walk through it. When Tina stops walking just to glance at him, she pushes her. Hard. “You might be into that but I’m not.” 

He snorts, sharing a look with Blaine that said nothing so much as what the fuck, before slipping through the doorway. Sam is pacing by the wall opposite the restroom. His head pops up like a meerkats when he hears them. 

“What took you guys so long?” He shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter. Do you have it?” 

He rolls his eyes, disbelief curling beneath his tongue. “Of course I do. It’s not like I was going to misplace it, Evans.” He tucks his hand into an inside pocket of his blazer, handing the black velvet box to the blond. “You’ve got this.” 

“I really hope you’re right.” 

He resists the urge to tell him that he’s always right. It’s childish and not at all necessary. He gives him a slap on the back instead, an encouragement of bros as Sam had once dubbed it. He smiles at him with a, “she loves you” before entering the room they’ve rented, giving Blaine a nod when he spots him. 

Somehow they pull it off without Marley suspecting anything, bringing her to the centre of the room without her noticing. Without her anticipating what’s going to happen. He keeps her in place, a conversation about Mr Puss ensuring she’s distracted enough that she won’t venture away. Music starts from one of the speakers, a traditional happy birthday song as Blaine carries the cake out. 

They all sing and some of them (see: Blaine and Tina) are much more in tune than the rest of the crowd. But that isn’t what counts - they’re singing happy birthday, for goodness sake - and when Marley blows out the candles, eyes closing, he taps her on the shoulder from behind, Sam kneeling on the floor beside him. He takes a large step back, out of the scene. 

Tina has her phone out, recording the cake at first but quickly coming to terms with the real surprise. Sam is talking, rambling about how these past three years have been the best of his life, that she’s the best part of him. It’s all a bunch of romantic sentiments that won’t matter as much when the wedding comes or when they’re eighty and can barely remember one another. But Marley is grinning widely, eyes beginning to shimmer with tears, and he can’t help smiling. 

Kitty nudges him with her elbow, offering him a Kleenex. He takes it but pouts at her. She just chuckles quietly, removing a second tissue from her pocket to give to Tina, taking the phone from her hands to continue filming. 

And then Sam is standing with his arms around Marley, both of them lost in their own joy, in a moment that’s for them. He bins the tissue, trying his best not to show that he had needed it. He’s sure the slight red around his eyes will go unnoticed. 

It doesn’t. 

“Getting emotional, Clarington?” Sebastian slides up beside him, a bottle of water in his hands. 

He thinks about Kitty’s words, about just going for it. “Shut up.” 

Sebastian grins at him but, when he tells him he’s heading out, that he’s got a busy morning, Hunter lets him go. Kitty sees the entire scene, passing him a cup full of nothing but whisky with an aggravated sigh. 

He’s not sure which of them is more annoyed at him. 

*

Brunch gets cancelled the next day by Marley. He saw it coming the second Sam mentioned proposing on her birthday. On a Saturday. They probably wouldn’t see them for another three days and brunch definitely wasn’t going to be on their agenda. 

He doesn’t plan his day out for the first time and isn’t surprised when he finds himself at the shelter again. Just because Mr Puss lives with him now, doesn’t mean he doesn’t care about the rest of the animals. About Lady Tubbington. 

An hour passes surrounded by cats. It’s him that initiates lunch with Blaine for once, calling him to see if he was around. He isn’t as nearby as usual but he isn’t too far away either so he offers to make the journey. If there’s anyone to talk to about the things that had been on his mind for the past twelve hours, it would be Blaine. He was the person that approached the topic originally. 

“Why did you ask me to lunch, Hunter?” 

He stabs his fork through a chip on his plate. It scrapes slightly. An old lady glares at him at the sound. “I’m thinking about quitting my job.” 

“Huh?” Blaine blinks, his fork clattering to the floor. He picks it up, placing it to the side and calling the waitress over for a clean one. He swallows a bite of his food. “At my uncle’s office. I’m thinking of quitting.” 

“Why?” 

He gestures vaguely with his cutlery. “I’m not doing anything important there. And I don’t enjoy it. What’s the point in staying?” 

“A paycheck?” 

“I can get a job I like and get a paycheck.” 

“Can you?” Blaine raises his eyebrows, resting his elbows on the table. “Do you even have a plan?” 

“I was thinking of starting at the shelter,” he looks around the room, at the old lady that might have been trying to set him on fire with her gaze. “They’ve got an opening for a receptionist. It isn’t great pay but I’ll be fine.” 

“You can’t just quit your job because you’re bored, Hunter. This is something that needs a lot of consideration. A list of pros and cons. Anything.” 

“I’m not bored,” he insists, even if it’s a lie. “I’m the perfect candidate. The staff know me already. I’m extremely organised. The animals like me.” 

“And the people at the local theatre know and like me,” Blaine sips his water, voice straining from trying not to be too loud. “Doesn’t mean I’m just gonna drop my degree and start acting.” 

“From what I hear, you could if you wanted.” 

“That’s not my point. You need to be sure that this is what you really want.” He hesitates, weighing his words. “Why do you really want to do it?” 

He slouches, head falling onto the table for a moment. It’s less than graceful but he gathers himself before a hovering waitress can ask if he’s okay. “I just need a change of pace.” 

“That’s why you moved to New York, though. Surely, you don’t need another change this quickly.” 

“I spent years of my life working towards a military career, Blaine. That’s not going to happen anymore. I need something that gives me purpose. That means something.” 

“You’re trying to find your perfect fit,” Blaine realises, sinking into the booth. “That I understand. I was going to attempt a career on Broadway, you know? I was gonna make it big and inspire people,” he laughs, head tilting to the side. “Then I got to NYADA, where I was supposed to go to college, and I was just lost. Nothing made sense. Everyone was going for the same thing, ready to tear me down at a moment’s notice and I couldn’t do it. That’s not me.” 

“You probably could’ve made it if you really wanted.” 

“I couldn’t,” he stares at him for a minute, gouging how much to divulge. How much to admit. “It was Sebastian, actually, that told me to drop out. Find what I wanted to do - not do what I thought I had to. There was the opening at a music shop looking for people to teach piano lessons and I just went for it. Something to fill the time. That first kid walked in, practically vibrating with nerves, and it all fell into place. I was doing what I was born to do.” 

“Cool story,” he comments and, although it’s genuine, it sounds sarcastic. Blaine reads it for what it is, reads the admiration he’d wanted to put across, and grins. “I won’t know until I try, will I?” 

“Probably not.” 

“I guess I ought to call my uncle.” 

*

He does, and it goes over as well as he expected. He’s replaced immediately. It doesn’t sting, his place being overhauled by some baby-faced graduate that’s searching for a college fit. Brittany makes him fill out application after application, repeating the mantra that he has to go through the same screening process as the rest of them. It’s a meeting with Jake and Jake just takes the forms and sends him to the front desk to start right away. 

Within a week, he’s rearranged the entire system. He’s updated their software and everything runs more smoothly. The paper files are sorted into a more organised system, one that’s easy enough that anyone could understand it, as long as they spoke english. Jake gives him a nod of satisfaction when he walks into work the Monday after it’s done, after the shelter is improved by miles just because he’s strict with the order of things. 

It’s the best he’s felt in a long time. 

*

Marley demands that brunch be served at his apartment that Sunday, that they should celebrate his following his heart. He thinks it’s silly, that she’s making a big deal out of nothing, but he can’t protest when Tina and Blaine back her up. When she informs him that they’re all going to be there, all eight of them, he purchases two new chairs, considering it an investment in the future. In ensuring the comfort of his frequent company. 

Brunch tastes better than it ever had, like his happiness has seeped into eggs he didn’t prepare. That his passion is what flavours the bacon. He knows he’s imagining it, that he’s just riding the high of starting a job he loves, of making a difference, but he doesn’t care. This is big, this is the biggest he’s felt since long before his mother fell ill, and he isn’t going to let it go. 

“You look good,” Sebastian tells him when he arrives, smiling a smile he doesn’t recognise, that he’s never seen before. It’s something genuine and heat curls in his stomach and his chest tightens every time the other man looks at him as they eat. 

Maybe things will get better. They just take time. 

*

The next brunch is at Blaine and Sebastian’s apartment and he’s ashamed to admit that he’d never attended one they hosted. It’s a blend of their personalities, of Blaine’s bright wardrobe and bubby nature and Sebastian’s calmer demeanor, his more unpredictable side. There’s a red throw over the back of a grey couch, yellow cushions that risk clashing horrible with the blanket. 

There’s a lot of pictures, most of Blaine with various friends. A blond boy that isn’t Sam wearing a navy blazer with red piping. Half a dozen of him and Sam at different locations, theme parks and beaches and football matches. There’s a couple of him and someone with similar features - black hair and a strong jawline. 

There’s only one of him and Sebastian, one where they’re standing obscenely close, matching grins stretched across their faces. They’re both wearing the same uniform Blaine was wearing in other photos, Blaine’s hair gelled to the crown of his head and Sebastian’s flying free in the wind. The edge of his shirt collar is bent out of shape. He smiles. 

“Dalton,” Sebastian says from beside him, pointing at the logo on their blazers. “I spent some of the best years of my life there. It was more than a boarding school. It was our home.” 

He turns his attention to him, to the freckles on his cheekbones, to the embarrassed flush as his eyes drift between pictures. He can make out the parts of him still stuck as a teenager, at Dalton. The dirty jokes and the messy collar of his shirt. Some things don’t change, Hunter knows that, but it’s always interesting to see the parts of people that existed years ago. 

“You look really happy in that photo,” he says, tucking a hand into his trouser pocket for lack of a better option. “But why is there only one?” 

“Blaine and I, we-” Sebastian stops, green eyes roaming the room. Going from Tina to Sam to him. “We went through a rough patch in junior year when he started seeing someone. It was the first time I really had to share him, let him have time with someone else, and I struggled.” 

He looks up at Hunter. He’s vulnerable. He’s telling him that he’s not perfect, that he never was. He appreciates the trust it symbolises. Nudging him with his elbow, he tilts his chin towards the photo. “When was it taken?” 

“The last day of junior year. We made up when Kurt dumped him. Told him he was better off winning regionals over keeping his boyfriend happy.” 

“That’s awful.” 

Sebastian nods, a sad smile twisting on his face. “He’d never admit it but it hurt him. A lot. I mean, who does that? Especially to a guy that would give him the moon if he wanted it.” 

They both look at Blaine then, at the way he’s laughing easily. At the way he’s spinning Kitty around to some pop song on the radio. At the way his curls bounce on his forehead as he dances. At how he lives because he can. 

“He’s worth more than that,” he concedes, trailing Sebastian when he starts walking to the kitchen, ready to help Marley bring out breakfast. The other man nods. He decides that now is as good a time as any to take a leap, to jump out of his comfort zone. “And so do you.” 

Sebastian doesn’t get a chance to respond, pushed to the other side of the table by Sam and Kitty who are arguing over a video game he’s never played. Tina is dragging Sebastian into a conversation, Blaine contributing where he can. Marley and Mike are the only ones actually eating. He smiles down at his plate. 

He’s almost found his place in the big city. 

*

“Can we talk?” 

Sebastian is drying the dishes, a neat pile of them on Tina’s counter. It’s been a week since he convinced himself to put it out there, to dive in head first and hope that he doesn’t drown. He’s done plenty of waiting, of standing on the shore for safety he doesn’t need. If he’s lucky, someone will be there to catch him. To drag him out of the depths and make sure he doesn’t choke. If he isn’t, he’ll find his way out. He’s done it before. 

“Yeah, of course,” he throws the dish towel over his shoulder, the counter supporting his weight as he leans back. “What’s up?” 

It’s a sunny day out, the first all week, and everyone else had gone for a walk. He and Sebastian had stayed - the latter because he had dish duty, Hunter because he wanted a chance to get him alone. The sun streams in through the window over the sink, highlighting Sebastian’s frame. 

“I-” he stops, words on the tip of his tongue that he couldn’t articulate. That stumble over one another until they’re a jumble of nonsense. “I didn’t think I’d get this far. I expected it to start raining before I got to say anything.” 

“Just say whatever it is you have to.” 

“Now it’s awkward to say it,” he complains, sinking into a chair. Sebastian chuckles, sitting in the chair opposite him. “There should be some kind of guide to telling a one night stand that you would really like to go on a date with them.” 

Sebastian blinks, rests his chin in his palm and then drops it. He crosses his arms and then unfolds them. He stares down at his hands. That wasn’t supposed to come out. He was meant to approach it delicately, explain that he actually liked Sebastian, that he wanted a chance at more than that one time they had sex. But it hadn’t.

“Must have been a really good fuck,” Sebastian says eventually and he can breathe. Can hear him over his blood pounding in his ears. “When are we gonna meet her? Or is it a him? A them? Doesn’t matter.” 

“Wait, what?” 

“Whoever it is, they’ll have to come to brunch at some point,” Sebastian shrugs, picking at the lint on his trousers. “Who is it?” 

He waits. Waits for Sebastian to laugh, to tell him he’s joking and that he should’ve seen the look on his face. That, of course, he’ll get coffee or dinner with him at some point. It doesn’t come. There’s only stony silence as Sebastian waits for his response, for a name and maybe a face to put together. 

“You’re kidding, right?” He’s breathless, trying to connect the dots. To discover the wires that cross between them that confused his meaning. That made Sebastian think he was talking about someone else. Sebastian stares at him. “Why would I be kidding? Is it a secret love affair? Are they married?” 

“Are they-” And he stops, wonders whether to just go for it or use his words. Kitty would tell him to stop being a wuss, to muster up the courage and just try. “They aren’t married.” 

“Well, why haven’t you told me their name yet?” 

“It’s you, dumbass,” he explodes, chair skidding back across the floor. There’s probably marks, scuffs from the legs, but he doesn’t care. He can make it up to Tina. “I want to go on a date with you and you’re just so damn laid-back about everything that I wasn’t sure how to ask.”

There’s silence and sunshine and his breathing is echoing in the space. There’s Sebastian staring at him, eyes glowing, and he just wants him to say something. Lay the truth out without preamble, tell him that he doesn’t want that so he can move on. He did his bit. He shouldn’t have to do more. 

“Oh,” Sebastian says, gaze resting somewhere over his shoulder. He wishes that he would meet his eyes, just once, while he turns him down. While he tells him he’s not worth it. That’s what he admired about Quinn - she never did care if she hurt his feelings with honesty. “We slept together months ago. Why are you bringing it up now?” 

And, okay, that’s fair. It’s been months. He’s had an almost serious relationship since. He’s quit his job and adopted a cat and turned his entire life around just to get a fresh start. But he’s allowed to take time for these things. To think them through. 

“I needed to be sure it was what I wanted,” he admits, sitting back down. Sebastian raises an eyebrow. “And no matter what I did, the memory of that night never went away. It was, understandably, clearer that first brunch but then you approached me at Tina’s and you tried to make it happen again and I got scared.” 

“What was there to be scared of?” 

He ignores the laugh clinging to the words. “Everything around me was different. I couldn’t let another thing change without plenty of consideration.” 

“It shouldn’t take months to think about something like that though, Hunter,” he points out and Hunter chuckles weakly. Sebastian smiles and he doesn’t feel as stupid anymore. “But I did come on a bit strong that day, I’ll admit.” 

“You really did,” he agrees, recalling just how pliant he had been against Tina’s sink. How willing he had almost been to give in for a second time. “And then Kitty happened and I didn’t get a chance to think anymore. It was easier to ignore it than to wonder what might’ve been. Whether we could’ve been more than just a one time thing.” 

“Is that what you were aiming for when you came in here? To ask me out?” 

He sighs, nodding helplessly. It’s embarrassing, his lack of preparation. “I thought I was going to be really smooth about it but then you were washing the dishes and I blanked.” 

“Because I was washing the dishes?” 

“I’m a very clean person,” he protests, raising his arms in front of him. Before he can put them back down, Sebastian grabs one. Neither of them mention it. “Watching someone do household chores is my weakness.” 

“You’re so weird.” His thumb strokes over Hunter’s pulsepoint and he hopes he can’t feel his heart rate increase under the caress. He smiles. “What’s wrong with enjoying having a clean house?” 

“There’s nothing wrong with it, per se. It’s just strange that watching me do chores is what gets you going,” Sebastian laughs and it lights up the room. The sunlight doesn’t matter. Not when the other man is radiant enough. “But whatever floats your boat.” 

“Is that you saying you’ll go on a date with me?” 

“Only if you take me to bed after,” Sebastian answers, winking, their fingers still tangled together. Hunter nods, the last piece of life in New York slipping into place. “I think I can manage that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm at love-that-we-were-in on tumblr.


	5. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _The ceremony is beautiful. Marley is practically glowing, flowers braided into her hair to match her dress. It’s ivory instead of white, pale pink details thread into the fabric. She’s beautiful and he’s never been prouder of her than when she joins him at the back of the room, waiting for the moment she becomes a wife. He hadn’t expected to walk her down the aisle, to stand in for a dad she didn’t know, but he’s grateful that she thinks so highly of him. That she considers him her brother more than her friend._

The ceremony is beautiful. Marley is practically glowing, flowers braided into her hair to match her dress. It’s ivory instead of white, pale pink details thread into the fabric. She’s beautiful and he’s never been prouder of her than when she joins him at the back of the room, waiting for the moment she becomes a wife. He hadn’t expected to walk her down the aisle, to stand in for a dad she didn’t know, but he’s grateful that she thinks so highly of him. That she considers him her brother more than her friend. 

Tina and Kitty stand behind her while the minister officiates, dresses swinging around their knees. Blaine’s standing behind Sam with a wide smile, his eyes darting into the crowd occasionally to where Hunter knows his boyfriend of six months is sitting. He’s glad Blaine found someone for him, to support him at a wedding full of people he had only met a couple of times. 

Kitty winks at him when he hands Marley over, whispering words of gratitude and pride she may not hear over her own excitement. This is all she and Sam have wanted since they were teenagers, since they learned, deep in their bones, that they were made for this. For each other and a future together. He smiles at his ex girlfriend, somehow working her way into his friendships over the last year and a half. 

It’s over all too soon, Sam dipping Marley in a kiss that isn’t exactly suitable for public consumption. But he claps and cheers and offers them a thumbs up when they face the crowd, when they face their friends and families as husband and wife. They’ve never been happier, never been more complete, than when they walk back down the aisle hand in hand and he’s over the moon for them. For the wonderful life they’re going to lead. 

Marley’s mum finds him in the parking lot, thanking him for all the effort he put into making the wedding work, to making it perfect for her little girl. He blushes, accepting the compliment, but doesn’t mention how little work it was. How understated their wedding had been to some that he had attended in his youth. He drives her to the venue of the reception, Kitty joining them for the ride because there’s no room for anyone else to take her. 

It’s a lie - he knows of at least one person with a spare seat in the car for her - but they have a good journey, radio blaring as they drive through the busy streets of New York. The venue is the same as the one Sam proposed in, a different room but the same building. All of the decorations matched the wedding, the pale pink Marley had chosen and a few superhero features for Sam to enjoy. 

He’s done a great job at putting it together, at balancing their souls, and he’s proud. He could never do it professionally, could never be the person someone looked to to make every single arrangement of an event and get paid for it, but this was his wedding present, the most thoughtful one he could come up with, and they deserved to have it be special. 

Blaine’s boyfriend, Dave, spends most of his time with Hunter, still uncomfortable surrounded by so many people. He’s not long out, only in the past year, but he’s making an effort for Blaine, to prove how much he means and there’s beauty in that. In how willing he had been to put everything on the line. They talk sports. They talk action movies and which brand of beer is the best. They talk about how great Blaine can be, as a friend and as more. 

He likes Dave, he does. He likes what he stands for and that he’s a breath of fresh air. That he isn't connected to everyone through high school. That he has his own story. Hunter can relate to that, can see parts of himself in Dave, and can see where he’ll grow into himself. Into his identity. 

Mike drags Dave away in the end and he offers a silent thank you. Tina’s boyfriend doesn’t say it but the unmentioned you owe me is there. He’s never been more grateful that Mike was straight when Tina started dating him - it saved him so many headaches over the last couple of years. 

“What are you thinking about?” Kitty asks, ordering a glass of wine from the bar now that she can. He looks out at the dance floor, at Blaine and Sam serenading everyone with Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go. “Did you ever think this is where you would be two years ago?” 

“Still hanging out with you,” Kitty snorts into her glass. “Not a chance in hell. I don’t usually end a relationship with friendship.” 

“Glad to know I’m special.” 

“You better believe it,” she joins him, watching as Sam scrambles off-stage to twirl Marley around, Blaine, for reasons he will never understand, starting a rendition of Love Shack. “I am happy we ended on a good note though. Not sure if I would’ve gotten through some of what I have without you there.” 

“I’ll always have your back,” he says, taking her glass out of her hand to drag her into the crowd of people singing along with Blaine. “Don’t forget that.” 

“Whatever, Clarington,” she responds but his name is choked out for a second. He raises her hand over her head and she spins around. “You big sap.” 

His mother would be proud of him, of the people he’s met. Of the life he built by himself. He’d matured by himself, fixed the parts of him that had needed fixing for years. He was happy, happier than he ever thought he could be after she passed, but he was. Life did get better, as she had always told him it was prone to do. 

A finger taps his shoulder and he releases Kitty with a smile. She ends up by the stage and Blaine pulls her into singing the chorus with him. He turns around slowly, taking his sweet time. There’s an impatient huff before he’s twisted the right way. 

Green eyes stare into his own, joy and mischief making them shine brighter. He traces each freckle, each beauty mark with his own eyes. He doesn’t know if he’ll ever not want to revel in this, in the handsome face before him. In the heat of his body. His hand in Hunter’s. 

“I was beginning to think I’d never find you,” Sebastian tells him, wrapping an arm around his waist as Tina launches into a slower song. “You’ve become too popular. I should be worried you’re going to find a better offer soon.” 

He snorts, leaning into Sebastian’s chest. Their hearts beat in sync, the music calming them. “Like you’d let me leave. I’d have a better chance getting a job at Blaine’s school than of you letting me go.” 

“You would make an excellent janitor.” 

“I hate you,” he says fondly, gazing at his boyfriend. Sebastian runs a hand down his spine. “Sure.” 

They spend the next few minutes like that, swaying in time with Tina’s voice. He’ll never be able to get enough of this, of loving someone so much. He’ll never want to get rid of Sebastian, hasn’t wanted to (mostly) for the past two years and they both know it. The song finishes and he steps back, Sebastian left hand still held in his right. 

He stares at him for just a moment, stares at his future because he knows that’s what he wants. Knows that he doesn’t want this to end, doesn’t want to risk losing it because of some silly mistake. They watch Kitty and Tina wrestle each other for who’s going to gather everyone eligible around the stage. Tina wins in the end, bringing Marley to stand with her, bouquet in hand. Kitty rolls her eyes but joins the crowd of singles, keeps her attention locked on the stage even as the bouquet flies above her. 

It doesn’t soar all the way to the back where he and Sebastian are standing out of the way because that would be silly and unreasonable. It doesn’t hit Kitty or Brittany or people he knows. It’s some random cousin of Marley’s that he can’t remember the name of and she’s being swarmed by the masses. 

Sebastian chuckles beside him, the scene pretty funny when he lets himself think of it as such. He’s in love, he’s in New York and he’s happy. His father hasn’t forced him to divert back to his first pathway, to the army that he was supposed to join as soon as he could. His mother was gone but she was supportive, she was at peace wherever she had ended up. His best friend, his sister, was starting the next chapter with the love of her life at her side. 

They were all connected, all part of each other’s story, and he couldn’t change that, couldn’t remove the history that he had come to remember with affection. Without brunch, without the move, without Quinn and all her resentment at the world, he wouldn’t be here. He wouldn’t have the passion or a job he was meant for. He wouldn’t have a cat and that, when he thinks about it, might’ve been the greatest tragedy of them all. 

“What’s going on inside that head of yours,” Sebastian asks, handing him a beer as Sam and Marley start a duet. He thanks him. “You look like Mr Puss just spoke to you using real words.” 

“I might cry if he ever did that so don’t joke.” 

Sebastian laughs, a gentle one that makes him bite his lip. Makes him wonder how fast is too fast. “What is it then?” 

“Marry me.” 

It doesn’t matter that he doesn’t have a ring, that he hadn’t planned everything out, that he was at someone else’s wedding. What mattered was that he was in love, that he probably always would be, and that he saw an opportunity. That he wanted this more than most things in life. 

Sebastian smiles at him, a big grin that only shows up once in a blue moon, setting him on fire from the inside out. His blood is coursing through his veins, he’s alight and overjoyed and he’s surrounded by the people that matter. Hunter sips his beer, watches surprise and, very quickly, excitement flit across his features.

“You sure you know what you’re getting into with a question like that, Clarington?” Sebastian raises an eyebrow, arm curling around Hunter’s waist as all of their brunch friends start singing out of tune, Tina the loudest of all. 

And maybe he’s let them talk him into watching too many rom-coms, into seeing the beauty in dead trees and ugly animals and movies that don’t make any sense from a sensible point of view because it’s all he can do not to give Sebastian his all right then and there. “I’ve never been surer, Smythe.” 

They kiss and, at brunch almost a month later, they have matching wedding bands on their fingers. Who cares about planning a massive celebration anyway? Breakfast is enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm at love-that-we-were-in on tumblr.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm at love-that-we-were-in on tumblr.


End file.
